Harry Potter and the Preschool Blues
by KatieRae
Summary: Harry is four years old and attending preschool as his powers begin to manifest. what is in store for our young hero? Read and find out!
1. establishments

Disclaimer: HARRY POTTER, characters, names, and related indicia are trademarks of and ©Warner Bros. WB SHIELD: TM & ©Warner Bros. Harry Potter Publishing Rights ©J. K. Rowling.

Harry Potter And The Preschool Blues

Chapter 1: Establishment 

It was a dark, cold, and stormy night. A stream of light shone threw the crack in the cupboard door. A small boy sat on his bed curled into a ball trying to block out the sounds of the violent storm. He rocked back and forth, crying. He was afraid of the storm. He slowly fell asleep unaware that the next day wouldn't be much better. 

By the next morning the storm had stopped. He woke up to his aunt rapping on the cupboard door. 

"Boy get up or you'll be late," screeched his aunt. 

It was the child's first day of preschool. He quickly dressed and went into the kitchen for breakfast. His uncle was already sitting at the table reading the morning newspaper. His cousin came down the stairs for breakfast just as the boy sat down at the table.

"Mom what's for breakfast,'' the large boy asked his mother. 

"Bacon, eggs, pancakes, and sausages sweetums your favourite," she replied in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

After breakfast the children got in the car and were off for their first day of preschool. 

As the car pulled into the parking lot of the preschool, some children ran across the playground. The boys quickly got out of the car and raced into the building. The adults were close behind. The two boys stopped in the centre hall unsure of were to go. The two adults led the children into the school office and filled out the final paperwork. Wile they were filling out the forms an old man with a long beard came out of the back office. He was the strangest man the boys had ever seen. He was tall thin and very old judging by the silver of his hair and beard. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles. His nose was long and crooked as though it had been broken at least twice. Upon seeing the smallest boy the old man smiled brightly. He reached down and ruffled his hair before leaving. The boys wandered who the old man was. But were silent until the adults had said it was time to go. 

The secretary showed them to a classroom with an old woman sitting at the desk. She was tall with a kind grandmotherly look about her. Her hair was pulled up in to lose bun with a few strands hanging in her face. She looked up and smiled when she saw them enter. 

"Good morning. These must be our new students. Welcome to preschool boys. The other children will be coming in, in a few minutes. Why don't you go and play with them until the bell rings," she said brightly. 

The large boy's mother kissed him good buy and left with her husband. Then the teacher led the two boys to the playground. Children were running around playing tag and other games. The large boy walked over to a large group of kids and began playing their game. But the small boy was shy so he went over to the bench and sat down hoping someone would ask him to play. The bell soon rang and the children filed into the classroom. When every one was seated the teacher called the boys to the front of the class.

"Class this is Dudley and Harry. They're new here so I want you to make them feel welcome. Boys please take your seats. Now it's time to start class who knows what the eighth letter in the alphabet is?" 

Several students raised their hands. She pointed at a young black girl with pigtails and asked, "What is the letter?" 

The small girl piped up in her small voice and said, "K Mrs. Douglas."

She looked saddly at the small girl and said, "I'm sorry Kate but that's not right."

The little girl looked sadly at her desk. The teacher called on a boy with messy brown hiar and freckles. 

"It's V Mrs. Douglas," he said brightly. 

"I'm sorry Dennis but that's not right either, "she said sadly. 

The teacher desided to ask one of the new students. She pointed a finger at the small boy and asked, "Harry do you know what letter it is?" 

Harry quietly said, "H Mrs. Douglas." 

"Correct," She said happily. Some of the other students glaired at him.

A boy at the back of the class with dark red hair and a long nose whispered the word, "Geek!" 

Harry felt really bad. He didn't like being called a geek. As the day went on Harry found that he didn't like school at all. Everyone was so mean. Harry was very glad when the bell rang and everyone went home.

(A.N. Well that was chapter 1! Hope you liked it! I did. And what about the Old Man? Why was he at the Preschool? And what dose Mrs. Douglas have to do with the price of tea in China? Read and find out in Chapter 2: Revelations!)

P.S. Please Review!


	2. revelations

Disclaimer: HARRY POTTER, characters, names, and related indicia are trademarks of and ©Warner Bros. WB SHIELD: TM & ©Warner Bros. Harry Potter Publishing Rights ©J. K. Rowling.

Harry Potter and the Preschool Blues

Chapter 2: Revelations 

As Harry sat on the back seat of his Uncle's car he began to dread going back the next day. His Aunt turned around in the car and began asking Dudley about his first day at school. 

Meanwhile back at the school. Mrs. Douglas was walking back to her classroom have seen her last student off. She opened the door and stepped in side, the scene that lay before her was one of total catastrophe the desks were a mess toys were strung out everywhere. There was finger paint on just about every thing. Why she was stupid enough to give a bunch of four and five year olds finger paint was beyond her. She went over to the sink and soaked a washcloth in some water then turned around to try to decide where to begin cleaning. She remembered that it was so much fun when she was little. As she stood there her eyes fell upon the windows that looked as if someone had mistaken for some paper. Her windows now had flowers and a rainbow in most of the lower pains. She turned her attention to the desks that had been tipped over to make caves for some imaginary game the children had been playing. Her eyes fell upon a desk toward the back of the classroom. It was setting there quietly and patiently weighting it's turn to be cleaned. She slowly walked over to the desk it seemed to be the only one not covered in paint. She thought to herself 'The desk reflects the child that sits at It.' she laughed inwardly at her own joke. 'Harry is the first Potter I have ever known to be quiet and shy. James was a little hell raiser when he was Harry's age. He must have gotten it from Lilly!' she thought. The only thing on the desk was a picture of a woman with curly, deep red hair and bright green eyes. She was smiling brightly up from the picture. It was sloppy as any four year old's work is but it was unmistakable that the picture was of Harry's mother, Lilly. She reached up to her face and wiped a tear away. She hadn't even realized she had begun to cry. It had been almost three years science the Potter's death but she still felt as if it had happened yesterday. She quickly tore her eyes away from the picture and began to clean the messy classroom. She was washing the paint from the window when she heard a small pop behind her. She turned around and smiled brightly at the man who had just appeared.

"Albus, What brings you here?" she asked brightly.

"Ah, My dear Ann, I am afraid I must ask you a favor," He said sadly.

"And what would that be Albus?" she asked.

"I need you to watch Mr. Potter for me," he stated simply.

"Why do you need me to do that?" she asked, her voice seeped of curiosity.

"Do you remember Arabella Figg?" He asked.

"Of course, she is the one you have watching Harry." Suddenly a thought hit her, "Is there something wrong? Is she all right? Is Harry all right? He seemed all right a while ago! What has happened?"

"Ann do calm down, Arabella is fine, and too my knowledge Harry is too."

"Then why?"

"She's been picking up a lot of wandless magic in the area. If this continues he will need to be trained sooner than we would have expected. So just keep an eye out ok."

"I will Albus!"

"Thank you Ann. You're a big help."

"Your welcome Albus."

"Well I must be off! Good day Ann!"

"Good day Albus!"

And with a pop he was gone, and Ann set back to her task. However things at Harry's house weren't quite as happy.

"BOY! I'll teach you to be ungrateful."

Vernon grabbed Harry by the arm and flung him into his cupboard and his it's back wall with a loud thud. Vernnon slammed the door shut and bolted it closed. Harry began to cry he hated being locked in the cupboard. Harry wasn't sure what he'd done to make his uncle mad this time but it was bad whatever it was. He had been sitting in the dining room as Dudley was telling aunt Petunia about his day and Harry had been quietly ignoring them and thinking of his own day at school when his aunt screeched. Harry hadn't really figured out what happened but one of his aunt's bowls got broken and well you know the rest. He hadn't even touched the bowl how could he have broken it. But his Aunt had claimed it was his fault and now he is here in the cupboard with no light and only the spiders for friends. Happily he thought that maybe sense he was in trouble he wouldn't have to go back to school tomorrow. They didn't like him there either. 

(A.N. well that's Chapter 2. Sorry it's taken a wile I got writers block. What would you like to happen next? I just can't think of anything. Any way the sooner you review the sooner I update so get going the link is below. And if you don't want to leave your review here at FF.Net for everyone to see than send me an e-mail at katierae101@hotmail.com . I promise that I'll be the only one to see it. Well I gotta go now I'll catch you all latter. ^.^ KatieRae)

P.S. My pen name may be changing in a while there are so many Katie's on this sight. Though I can't think of a cool name right now. If you think of one you can include it in you review or in an e-mail.


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